my body was branded with the sign of the cross
before my bare feet could walk across water,
my pure soul was plunged into holiness
washing away the original sin
that I did not bring upon myself.

my socks aligned on the crevices of my knees,
my mary janes hugging my feet like I was their savior
and my jumper, crisp, pleats that cascaded hiding the sinful flesh beneath.
sliding into my desk, just to get back up
“Hail Mary full of grace….”
those words no longer coated with a shiny veneer,
“Our Father who art in heaven…”
repetition, drilled, recited, repeated
my body was branded with the sign of the cross
by the nuns who spread fear rather than the word of God.

white dresses, white tuxedos, white roses, white doves
Bleached.
I walk down the aisle, as a child of God
“Bless me Father for I have sinned”
arbitrary words patter into the confessional
in the dark room, there is no spirit to connect with,
“I was mean to my brother, I cursed, …..I got in a fight with my mom?”
I was washing away the original sin.

I wore a cross around my neck,
it dwelled their,
its presence visible, but I did not spread the word of God
my visits to church scrubbed away
with the bubbles whose presence popped
into the frosted air.
My cross followed.
I'm not a sinner for disinfecting my mind of lingering dust
that has disguised itself in the light

I look up to the sky and God is no longer inscribed in the clouds.
my body was branded with the sign of the cross
before my bare feet could walk across water
my pure soul was plunged into holiness
washing away the original sin
that I did not bring upon myself.